


Seven Ripped Stitches And Spilling Sand

by drakanyst



Category: Blast Beat
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/F, Oral Sex, UST, Vaginal Fingering, cursing as a pasttime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakanyst/pseuds/drakanyst
Summary: Adina doesn't know what to make of the less-than-chatty girl that she literally runs into at the gym.Some sparring should help.
Relationships: Adina Downing | Original Character, Some Christen + Aki if you squint
Kudos: 5





	1. A Day At The Gym

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myxomatosia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myxomatosia/gifts).



> I couldn't resist the idea of exploring Adi a little more, and it was good timing with Myxo's re-release of Blast Beat on Patreon. Thanks for being such a rad friend /o/

Just as the fading riff of an aggressive track dies out, Adina sets down the pair of free weights that she’d been using. There’s a resounding clank right after, causing her to seek confirmation in the mirror in front of her. A small woman with brightly dyed hair meets Adina’s gaze for a millisecond, darting away almost instantly. 

She was staring, Adina realizes. At her. 

The slightest curl of a grin tugs at Adina’s lips before resuming her workout (it’s core/arms day, and she needs that shit after drinking last week. Neil won’t let her forget it)- she knows what it feels like to be caught off guard. 

Plus, it was kind of cute. She can be spared. 

The encounter quickly fades from Adina’s mind as she moves on to do incline sit ups. She stops to pull a medicine ball off of a shelf next to the incline platforms and swings herself up onto the nearest one. A single-minded intensity takes over; this is one of her favorite parts of the workout. The world turns upside down as Adina reclines, slotting her legs underneath the blue bar that juts out from the top of the platform. Down and up, down and up, the brunette guitarist subconsciously matches rhythm with her playlist, reaching the top at every downbeat. 

A slender pair of legs passes her line of sight, but the pause that Adina takes to look earns her a bead of sweat in her line of sight. Adina changes her angle, grumbling in protest as she tries to blink her vision clear.

It’s a good thing that Adina doesn’t share this gym with the rest of the band. Time off is nice. Helps her think.

It isn’t until Adina heads in the direction of the lockers that she remembers where the community fountain is. Not wanting to have to return to the workout floor after she changes, Adina circles back to refill her water bottle. 

_ Oh shit, this breakdown is the best part--- _

She bobs her head to the beat as the song picks up, turning on automatic once the liquid nears the rim, one hand deftly spinning the cap closed. Adina runs directly into someone short, startling them both. Inhaling sharply, Adina steps back, inexplicably checking for spilled water. Naturally, she finds none. 

What she does find is bright, two-tone hair.

“You again.”

Wait, wasn’t that her line? Adina raises an eyebrow at the girl. She’s wearing sweatbands on her wrists and a full set of rash guards. Huh, an MMA enthusiast then. 

“Sorry,” Adina replies on automatic, but when she goes to move past finds herself blocked. 

“You’re that guitarist. The one from the local band.” Short and Cute gives Adina a critical glance that she doesn’t expect. 

_ It’s like getting a read from a fortune teller.  _ Adina has to glance down briefly to check that she’s not wearing one of the band’s shirts. That would just be insulting. But no, it’s just the loose black moisture wicking shirt that she put on for her workout. 

“You listen to metal?” Adina supposes she shouldn’t be surprised by that reveal. Short and Cute rolls her eyes, and Adina adjusts that nickname on the spot.  _ Short and Prickly, more like.  _

“I’ve seen you working the bag.”  _ Same bag every week- the heavy bag with seven ripped stitches. The heavy bag that gushes sand every time you kick it all-out.  _ Well that’s a surprise. Or it is until Adina reminds herself that she comes to this place five days a week. It’s not that outrageous for someone to recognize her. “Bet you 20 pounds I can wipe the mat with you.” 

Adina squares up automatically, her features morphing into a grin that’s equal parts annoyance. Some first impression this is turning out to be. Besides, what tourist makes a fight decision based on punching a heavy bag? 

Wild.

_ A good sparring match isn’t a bad idea.  _ She’s probably looking for an excuse to talk to Short and Prickly, but whatever. 

“I’ll take that bet, why the hell not. What’s your name, anyway?” 

Short and Prickly whirls about, marching in the direction of the single open mat floor that the gym has. Adina stands there for a few seconds, unmoving, just on principle. When Adina finally falls into step, she’s in no hurry. Short and Prickly ends up waiting, fingers tapping on her right upper arm while Adina approaches. 

“Zara.” 

“What?” 

“My  _ name  _ is Zara.” 

“..right. Nice to meet---!” Adina doesn’t even get the chance to finish her sentence. Zara feints left and darts in on the right, grabbing Adina’s shoulder from across. She steps into a stance unmistakable from a Judo throw that one of Adina’s training buddies uses, and Adina steps forwards quickly to avoid the leg that follows at the back of her calf.  _ Shit  _ that was close. Adina adjusts her weight, grabbing the back of Zara’s hand and spins, but Zara catches what she’s intending and reaches in to clasp her hands together, pulling her arm away. 

O-kay. 

Time to take this a little more seriously. 

Zara closes in on Adina, jabbing a few times in succession to her face and body. Adina blocks them but doesn’t return any hits, spending the time instead to learn the way that Zara moves. It’s unpredictable, but she knows if she watches long enough, she’ll find something to work with. That is, assuming that she doesn’t get caught first.

Out of habit, Adina’s hands come up to parry away the obvious hook that follows Zara’s last strike. The lights suddenly appear at Adina’s feet as Zara cleanly hip tosses her. A disbelieving, joyous laugh follows them both to the ground, cut short by the impact pushing the air from her lungs. Adina plants her feet on Zara’s hips and rolls with her- not quite enough to throw her off, but enough to get away. Rolling into a crouch, Adina pushes an unruly lock of curled hair away from her face. 

As much of a spite fight this is, it’s kind of  _ fun. _

This time when Zara lunges Adina is ready. A quick twist of the upper body overbalances them both, and then it becomes a struggle. Every time that Adina thinks she’s got an opening for a submission, Zara seems to be ready for it. Despite her slight stature and build, Zara is solid as  _ fuck.  _ Their grappling loses strikes the longer that it goes on, and before long Adina notices they’ve ended up at the entire opposite end of the mats. 

**_Fuck._ ** Adina jerks her head, barely making it out of the line of a palm to the face. The gap in her reaction time works to her disadvantage. Zara takes mount, her thighs pressing on either side of Adina’s hips. Adina breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth, patiently testing Zara’s hold in varying spots.  _ Nope, not there….. Not there either….  _

What is Zara  _ made of?  _ Adina swings, aiming for her opponent’s face in an attempt to distract her. The effort gets her arm trapped between Zara’s knees. Zara rolls onto her back and raises her hips, going for an armbar. 

_ Oh hell no.  _ The mat burns as Adina grabs at her own arm, adopting a gable grip and wrenching her own arm away. It works, and Adina clambers into a standing position. 

A couple of curious passersby look in on the training hall now and again, but nobody ventures past the painted concrete onto the plush polymer of the mats where the two girls struggle with each other's grip. Adina turns against the mat and secures her grip on one of Zara's forearms, patiently working it free from its counter grip. Her legs wrap around from behind, ankles hooked up and over Zara's thighs. Each press and pull as they work their respective positions drags skin against skin and against the thin layer of rash guard between them. Adina takes a measured breath, telling herself that it's to keep focused and to apply gradual pressure like she'd been taught. 

That's all. And it works, mostly.

Their struggle tilts sideways as they both overbalance. Zara wriggles out, and Adina tries to make a grab for her, but the smaller woman shifts to base before Adina has time to bring her in. Adina mirrors her movement, adopting a more guarded stance, expecting attack. For a minute the two stare at each other, sizing their opponent up, chests heaving. 

Somewhere on the main gym floor, an interval circuit timer goes off. 

Zara dips, closing in with a few cautious jabs. When Zara lunges for her, aiming to secure Adina’s upper body, Adina grabs an arm and hooks her own behind Zara’s back. She twists viciously, adopting a wide stance to pull Zara’s weight up and over her leg. A fan of acid green and teal follows Zara’s path of motion, and she slams to the ground in a resounding shudder of mat and floorboard. 

A breathless,  _ furious  _ face glares up at her. Adina lets go, stepping back with the intent to help her impromptu sparring partner up. Her hand is smacked out of the way, and Zara gets to her feet, dusting herself off as if the mats aren’t regularly cleaned. Maybe it’s supposed to be a slight.

“Looks like I get to keep my twenty pounds.” 

“Bullshit, you didn’t win.”

“I didn’t lose either, did I?” Adina smirks. 

“I’m not giving you shit for a wash of a round,” Zara rebounds, haphazardly yanking a hair tie from the small collection around her left wrist. Why she didn’t tie it back earlier is a mystery. Adina feels her expression turn into a mask, barely covering the annoyance she feels. 

“Guess we’re even then.” It’s not true. Adina’s not about to be bested by some lush that decided she had a bone to pick, but neither is she about to hand over twenty pounds on a draw. 

“Whatever.” Zara gives Adina one last look that stretches for a beat too long before snapping away. Her footsteps fade as she crosses the training area and into the main gym, soon disappearing in the throng of fitness-desperate afternooners. 

Adina huffs out a disbelieving laugh. What kind of bollocks did she just waste the last of her workout on? 

. . . 

The next three weeks, Adina maintains her usual workout schedule. She ends up at the same heavy bag at the same time Monday through Friday, working a staggered circuit, but there’s no other sign of Zara whatsoever. Adina keeps an eye out (it’s tempting to lie to herself and say that she’s not looking for the smaller fighter, but that kind of crap isn’t healthy in the long run) yet is met with nothing except for innumerous false starts as she glances a flash of color passing by. Really, it’s like Zara faded from existence. 

Or she’s avoiding Adina. If that’s the case, there’s really nothing Adina can do about it. 

_ A shame. She was easy on the eyes.  _

The next week, Adina cuts her workout short on Friday. There’s a show that Christen’s friend from secondary school set up for  _ Flesh Machine  _ at a venue not far from the Lexington. They’ve never been to it. The place doesn’t seem to cater to many metal bands or heavier acts, and Adina has little confidence that the audio will be adequate. Christen assured them it’d be cool but she’s learned to wait for visual evidence before agreeing or disagreeing. Some of the places they’ve played have just been outright rubbish.

Instead of changing into her normal street clothes after she’s done with her training, Adina puts on her show clothes instead. She saved her better pair of shredded jeans for this occasion, matching it with a local band shirt that Adina modified in the interest of…

In the interest of her abs look damn good in crop tops, that’s what. 

The band’s name is Scribbles. Adina just made friends with their bassist at the away show Flesh Machine did in Cardiff last month. Even looking at the shirt in the mirror brings back memories of the night after the show when the two bands hung out, and Adina grins at her reflection. Scribbles is as sarcastic and wry in their lyrics as one could guess, and that kind of humor easily carried over into the night. The boys had all gotten along well together, and Adina had spent the latter part of the evening hanging out with Scribbles’ bassist and vocalist. 

_ At least the bar we got kicked out of was close to our hotel.  _ Ah, good memories.

Once Adina laces up her boots, she straightens and looks at the mirror across from the aisle of lockers she was standing in. It only gives her a partial view so she steps to the side, head tilting so that she can get a complete view of her choice of clothing.

Yeah, that’s good enough. Adina retrieves her drawstring bag and stuffs her water bottle in it before pulling it closed and slinging it over a shoulder. The sound of Adina’s boot scuffing the top of the bench is the only sound on this side of the locker room, and she reaches up and over the line of top lockers for a personal item she stowed out of everyone’s line of sight. Adina’s guitar case strap hits her in the face as she pulls it down, stepping back off of the bench to get to the floor. With her guitar in tow, Adina heads for the door. It’s a twenty minute walk to a thirty five minute ride to the venue, and if she doesn’t go now she’ll be late. 

. . . 

“Adina, just in time, you’ve got to see--- ow Aki that hurts-” 

“There’s  _ nothing to see.  _ Nothing!” Aki snaps, but there’s an embarrassed, rueful annoyance radiating off of him. When he glances back to where he struggles over Christen’s phone, a smile is tugging on his lips. 

Adina’s step picks up just a little as she catches up to her bandmates. A quick glance around them doesn’t add up right. Where’s Neil?

“Neil isn’t here?” 

“Didn’t get to the tube in time after his lesson. He’s taking the next one in.” 

Lame. His lesson probably ran late.

“Why are you two messing around out here?”

  
“We’ve already set up,” Aki answers, successfully wrestling Christen’s phone from his grasp. The brunette grabs after it, but it’s too late. 

“You’ve already set up. I haven’t done anything yet.” 

Adina only half listens as she walks, taking in the sight of backstage. It doesn’t look like much, but the loading bay is fairly large, and the front appears to be big as well. They take a turn, going down a narrow hall that leads to a split where they can either go upstairs or in the direction of the stage. Aki and Christen lead them to a lifted stage, much brighter than its surroundings even with the house lights up. 

It takes Neil practically another half hour to arrive, and by the time they are running sound check the techs are taking them through each step at breakneck speed. House doors are set to open any minute now, they’re reminded. 

By the time the lights go down on the venue, Adina’s full of restless energy. Christen and Neil bump fists in front of her as they wait for their name to be announced. If the noise of what’s happening beyond the curtain is anything to go by, they have a pretty good crowd tonight. 

Call it luck, or booking magic. With careful steps, they weave through the gear to take their spots. A curious buzz begins almost immediately once they’re noticed- it’s not usual for Flesh Machine to enter without saying anything.

They’d agreed not to engage the fanbase on the first track this time around, taking the moment of ambiguity to give the new track they’ve been practicing extra hype. They’ll get to the pleasantries at some point. 

Adina’s part is first, and she dons her guitar, leaving one foot on the monitor to her right. She’s practiced this opening over and over, so doing it in the near dark of the venue is nothing. The very first note has the crowd cheering, and as it winds and picks up, so do the stage lights gradually. Adina’s heart pounds in her chest. The downbeat hits at the same time the stage floods with light, and suddenly the entire venue is in vivid, stark clarity.

A flash of teal and green catches Adina’s eye.    
  
_ Zara again. _


	2. Everyone Needs A Good Cardio Regiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adina Downing's played around with groupies, sure. That's a little different, especially when she sees them regularly. This is something new, and Adina can't find it in herself to complain about the results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all right, chapter two! there's wonderful art by myxo of these two, which you'll see in chapter [(view it here)](https://twitter.com/myxomatonen/status/1289235314020622337?s=20). thank you for taking the time to read /o/

_Live in the moment_ is something that Adina’s grandmother taught her from a young age- she’d always believed that while you can plan your life away, reality has a way of doing what it wants. Living in the moment allows people to appreciate what’s in front of them before it’s gone. It might seem preachy (it definitely was meant that way a couple of times), but it’s stuck with Adina this long, and has done her more good than ill.

Especially with days like this. 

The show packed in fans like sardines, which was a little bit of a shock. Sure, they weren’t the only ones on the bill that night, but _Flesh Machine_ has lived plenty of days where they’ve played shows for only a handful of the people while the rest flocked to the other headliners. It hasn’t all been in their beginning days either. Maybe they’re doing things right, or maybe they’ve been a little smarter with when and where they accept shows for. Whatever it is, Adina is happy for it. The energy of the crowd makes the set fly past. By the time that Adina is wrapping up from the show with a towel around her neck, it feels like she’s done sixteen rounds with a brawler. It feels fucking _good._

Adina’s bandmates all seem to be feeling the remaining spark of stimulation. Neil keeps headbanging to music that isn’t happening, Christen and Aki pack up with no shortage of quips and pranks on each other (mostly reactive on Aki’s part). Adina grins as she wraps up cords, this was well worth it.

There’s something still vying for her attention as she finishes. Adina slings her guitar case over a shoulder and peruses the venue. Fans still mill about, enjoying what the dj plays. Most of them appear to be split between the bar and the center of the floor, where the more intoxicated and easily swayed find themselves in songs that have seen far too little radio time (or none at all). 

And still… Zara isn’t there. 

Adina almost convinces herself that she hallucinated Zara’s presence in the first place. She can’t be the _only_ metal fan with multi-tone hair in London. The only thing that tells her it’s not 100% a fantasy is the lack of said person visible in the venue. 

Fucking weird.

“Adina! Hurry the fuck up, I wanna get back and open this bottle already!” Aki’s voice carries over the house system, yanking Adina back to reality. 

“All right, don’t get your alans in a twist, I’m coming!” 

. . . 

The after party is as potent as Adina expects it to be, even if she’s distracted. 

It’s not about Zara. Totally forgotten and put to the back of her mind. 

It’s not like Zara was even that pleasant to interact with. Look she’s _not_ fixating. Stuff like this has never gotten to Adina. 

The rest of the weekend is spent stubbornly convincing herself of that, and relief is provided in the form of training when Monday rolls around. Time to go sweat off the remains of that second bottle. 

It’s legs day, so Adina starts in the weight room opposite the side of the gym with the training hall. Every couple of sets, her eyes pull over to the training hall’s entrance, miniscule and impossible to tell if anyone is inside. There’s probably nobody. She stares anyways. 

After a half hour of distracted lifting, Adina can’t take it anymore. 

The door creaks as Adina opens it, empty from the little smudged pane of glass that she can see through. She takes a few steps inside and the door swings back behind her. There must not be any classes scheduled for today- the door normally stays open if there are. Adina heaves a sigh; this is really getting out of hand for her. 

Something clatters behind her. Adina spins on the spot, gaining an eyeful of none other than Zara leaning to pick up her stainless steel water bottle. The confirmation rattles them both; Adina for Zara’s presence in the otherwise quiet room, and Zara for being discovered. 

“You were at the show Friday.” 

It’s not a question. Adina crosses over to Zara, putting a foot against the bench near the gear shelves, in front of the small line of in-hall lockers. 

“What are you, a pro detective now?” The words are dripping in sarcasm, but Zara’s cheeks flush a little with her response. _So it’s true._

“Did you like it?” 

Zara glances up at Adina, and the brunette realizes that she’s already inched just that much closer. This whole thing is so perplexing, it’s difficult to keep up.

“Did I like what? My private time before you showed up?” 

“The show,” Adina clarifies, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

There’s a beat of silence that stretches too long where Zara gives Adina a furtive once-over. Adina’s heart skips in her chest, now _that’s_ something.

“Enough to make me wonder.” 

_Wonder?_ Adina’s reaction must have registered on her face somewhere, because Zara audibly snorts. She leans forwards, angling towards Adina in a way that doesn’t read ‘sparring’ or ‘fight’. Everything’s surprisingly _warm._

When Adina doesn’t respond the way that Zara anticipates, the former clicks her tongue against her teeth and yanks Adina forwards by the clinging material of her sports bra. Their mouths bump into each other, causing them both to react. Adina hisses out a breath as Zara half-utters a curse, and the world freezes for a moment.

If someone comes into the training hall, it’ll look terrible. Adina can’t find it in her to care. 

The adrenaline of the moment causes Adina to press more solidly against Zara, their breasts pressing against one another as they haphazardly begin to explore each other. Zara’s tongue pushes into Adina’s mouth and _fuck_ this isn’t what she expected but she’s here for it. One of Adina’s hands smacks against the metal door of a locker behind Zara’s head. Adina can’t seem to draw a deep enough breath, each little inhale stolen by Zara. Her other hand begins to wander down a set of toned abs and over a round hip. 

_“Mnh….”_

Zara lets go of Adina’s top, but instead of pulling back, she reaches for Adina’s sides as if to pull her in. Being just out of reach, it makes for an awkward move but the intention is there all the same. Adina steps closer, giving Zara all the room she needs. The smaller girl exhales shakily into their kiss, and Adina feels a hand tentatively starting at her thigh and moving inwards, towards her crotch. Each brush of fingers is like lightning. Deft fingers find the sides of her clit through Adina’s pants, and she presses against the touch. Adina’s own wandering hand hooks Zara’s running pants with a thumb in an attempt to tease. 

_Goddamn_ this is getting her wet. At this rate she’s going to have to rush to the locker room afterwards. She wonders if Zara is as worked up as she is. Adina squeezes Zara’s hip, her other hand boldly raising to thumb at one of Zara’s perked nipples. Something hard interrupts the plush sensation of Zara’s nipple- they’re pierced. That’s hot as hell.

Zara stops them when Adina pinches her nipple, rolling the pierced bud between the thin layer of shirt…and only shirt. No bra. At first Adina thinks she’s gone too far somehow, but then Zara is smirking at her and hastily kicking off her running pants, her panties going along with it too.

_Oh._

That has got to be the nicest little set of plump lips she’s ever seen. Adina’s concentration is torn between the kiss that resumes after and paying attention to the barely visible shine of wetness at Zara’s cunt and inner thigh. Unable to resist the temptation, Adina breaks the kiss to push up Zara’s shirt with one hand, revealing one of her pierced breasts. Uninhibited, she brushes her thumb over it, catching on the piercing and toying with it.   
  
Zara moans quietly in the training hall, spreading her legs in an obvious hint. Adina gives the door a quick glance before brushing the tips of her index and middle finger against the front of Zara’s lips. A bit of sticky wetness comes back with it, and Adina strokes the sides of them, working a little lower each swipe. By the time she pushes the two digits into Zara’s cunt, Adina’s is practically throbbing from arousal. 

They could get caught at any time. That only seems to fuel Adina’s desire.

Adina sits fully on the bench, and the change in angle pushes her fingers deeper into Zara’s tight cunt, little wet _pfwips_ accompany each thrust of Adina’s fingers. All of this is tremendously lewd, and Adina bites her lip as she takes in Zara’s flushed face. Grabbing a handful of breast with the other hand, she speeds up her movements, causing Zara to arch against the lockers.

_“Ah…”_

“Does that feel good?” 

_“Y-yeah…”_

Zara’s legs press apart as Adina presses her fingers up into her, lips parted on a half-moan. She reaches with one hand to grip a handful of dark hair, and Adina leans into it, amber eyes tracking the way that Zara licks her lips. There’s the crackle of electricity between them, and Adina acts on her impulse to duck forwards and kiss Zara again. Her fingers speed up, scissoring into Zara now and again to coax out the blonde’s moans. 

A static _pop!_ distracts them both momentarily, but that is the only sound in the training hall. It makes the following squelch of Adina’s fingers all the more noticeable.

_“Nmh--- harder…”_

Adina can _probably_ accommodate that. The ghost of a grin pulls at her lips as she decides to go agonizingly slow, earning an annoyed whine in response. 

A third finger is added in when Adina speeds up, this time plunging into Zara relentlessly. Zara’s head hits the jut of metal that forms the lock next to her, a small metallic reverberation articulating her apparent euphoria. _Did she just gush?_ Adina looks down between them for confirmation. Her fingers come away sticky, the mess slowly traveling down Adina’s fingers towards the palm of her hand. Encouraged by the sight, Adina traces her tongue along the edge of Zara’s, letting her weight shift forwards so she has better reach. 

“ _Fuck--!”_ Zara’s mouth tenses and then goes slack against Adina’s as she keens into their gradually messy kiss, body stiffening. _Zara’s close._ Adina echoes with a rasp of a moan, breaking the kiss and ducking down to taste the line of her jaw, and then the pulse point beneath that. She adds a little teeth, and that does it. Zara comes with an aborted shout of a moan, biting her lip as her walls squeeze around Adina’s fingers. There’s a surge of wetness between them, and the lockers shudder as each wave of Zara’s climax hits her. 

When Zara finally slumps into Adina’s grasp, she only buries the fingers inside of her deeper. Adina huffs out a breathless chuckle against Zara’s skin, tasting the combined sweat of her previous workout along with their own version of cardio.. It’s pretty nice. The thought surprises her.

Zara’s grip on her hair finally loosens, and Adina’s amber eyes drag back up Zara’s form. Clothes pulled every which way, breasts exposed and a piece of hair sticking to her face with Adina’s fingers still inside of her. 

It’s a good look.

The door to the training hall creaks, and the two exchange a wide-eyed glance before rushing into action. There’s another _shwip_ as Zara gets to her feet unevenly, leaving Adina with soaked fingers as she rushes to find her running pants. Adina picks up her workout towel next to her own discarded water bottle, wiping her hand hastily as a group of masculine presenting people walk in, chatting amongst themselves and ignorant of what had transpired in the training hall only moments before. 

Maybe. Hopefully. 

Adina grins at Zara. They begin to head for the training hall’s entrance. Zara goes for a sullen expression as she pushes open the training hall door. It lasts just long enough to make it out onto the main floor before she dissolves into giggles, the hand gripping her water bottle raising to cover her mouth. _Cute._

As they get closer to where the path to the lockers and the front door splits, Adina expects Zara to head directly to the door and skip on showers, or go back to working out like nothing happened. _It would be on brand for her_ , she thinks, especially with Zara’s prior ‘piss off’ disposition. 

There’s silence instead as Zara turns the same direction to go to the locker rooms. Neither of them make a comment as they walk practically side by side until Zara turns off to a row of lockers on the right. Adina mentally shakes herself. It’s totally normal to change after a workout, even if it’s a workout that ended in Adina fingerfucking Zara.

Yeah.

Adina continues until practically the end of the locker area, finding her row on the left hand side. Locker 312 rattles as Adina puts in the combination for it. Once it’s open she begins to strip down, withdrawing a full size towel to wrap herself in. She next retrieves a small travel set and replaces it with her discarded clothes, shutting the locker and spinning the dial after. 

The chances of Zara still being around are high. So sue her, she’s interested. That is, if Zara and her even cross paths. A smirk tugs at Adina’s lip at the thought. She walks down the main aisle between the lockers on her way to where the room splits off for washing up and the showers beyond it. Adina passes gym goers in varying stages of re-dress, turning to head for the farthest corner of the showers possible. While on a normal day she wouldn’t care, maybe doing this displayed a _little bit_ of hope. 

The curtain is already open on the shower stall that Adina chooses. She puts down the little travel set that she’d brought with her and gets ready to step in, yet is pushed from behind suddenly. Small hands press at her back and then disappear as Adina turns to hear the _shhhck!_ of the shower curtain being tugged closed behind them. Zara drops from Adina’s line of sight, the only warning before Adina’s back collides with the shower wall. 

“Nh-!” 

Adina grips her towel with one hand as she looks down to find the source of insistent, rough hands tugging at it. A moment of indecision on what to do with the towel is all it takes for Zara to sense weakness and yank it out of her hands. Adina opens her mouth to protest as she watches it barely miss thwapping into the opposite wall, but the sound dies in her throat as it sails clear. Zara tears hers off and joins both towels, turning to reach blindly for the outside wall where a towel hook awaits. She must have been successful if the wicked smirk on her face is any indication. _Fuck._

Zara doesn’t bother with foreplay. She doesn’t grab at Adina, doesn’t kiss her. All of Adina’s breath whooshes out of her lungs. Zara’s mouth seals over Adina’s clit and she reaches with the other hand to turn shower dial. Water spits and splutters into the stall, growing more steady until it’s a full stream, hiding the sound of Adina’s moan. Droplets sprinkle Zara’s skin, catching in the far-off light overhead. Her tongue traces up and down either side of Adina’s clit, alternating between sucking and licking, hands keeping Adina’s hips down against the wall. 

Adina’s legs push apart to invite Zara in, drawn into the intense way the smaller girl looks up at her. Zara’s tongue swipes deep, causing Adina to bite her lip to stifle the moan that follows. She can feel the way that Zara grins against her, following her tongue with her middle finger. The digit plunges into Adina and back out again, coupled with the path that Zara’s tongue takes. 

“Shit,” she breathes, tangling her left hand in half-soaked locks. Zara’s hand speeds up and she hums against Adina’s cunt, smug satisfaction radiating from the line of her shoulders. 

Wet sounds mix in with the shower. Adina glances from Zara up to the ceiling, allowing herself to savor the moment. It’s then that Zara adds a second finger, and then _another._ A lock of Adina’s hair falls in her line of sight as she attempts to get a look at what Zara is doing to her. Goosebumps dance along Adina’s skin briefly, pressing Zara’s face harder against her cunt, mouth parting on a silent moan. Zara’s free hand reaches to take a handful of Adina’s breasts, massaging it as she works Adina open.   
  
Warmth gathers low in Adina’s abdomen and Zara’s fingers come back _soaked._ There’s the _slap-slap-slap_ of her roughly fingerfucking Adina’s cunt, mouth suckling at her clit. Adina’s breathing comes ragged as she grips Zara’s hair- _really, what did she expect to happen._

Nonetheless, she’s much closer to climax than she was even a few seconds ago and _just_ as she gets used to this new pace one of Zara’s digits disappears from Adina’s cunt only to thrust all the way into Adina’s ass until the base of Zara’s hand presses against her. Zara doesn’t stop there, adopting the same aggressive pace she’d taken before, and the second time that the flat of Zara’s tongue swipes against her clit, Adina’s done. Her orgasm crashes over her like a wave, body tensing as her vision whites out. She clenches hard around Zara’s fingers, cunt pulsing as it radiates throughout her body. 

Well, if she made noise, fuck it. Nobody’s going to go this far out of their way to find them. 

Zara patiently waits until Adina’s climax recedes, only teasing her a few times before withdrawing her messy fingers. She plays with Adina’s come for a few seconds, watching it bend and stretch between her fingers. Zara follows it with her tongue, smirking up at Adina before getting her feet beneath her to stand. 

Awareness comes back to Adina slowly, watching the spectacle before her eyes a few moments before it occurs to her to outwardly react. Pleasure thrums through her body, leaving Adina lazy. She reaches out, grabbing Zara’s arm to pull her closer. They share an insistent kiss that only lasts a moment before Zara turns and steps out of the shower, wrapping her towel around her on her way out. 

Just like that, Adina is left alone with the shower still running, panting and with half of her hair in her face. 

“Bloody hell,” she murmurs fondly, sluggishly righting herself. Water cascades down her back as she steps under the spray, appreciating the warmth of the shower. Her eyes close, listening to the sound of it rushing down, her feet rooting her to the floor of the shower. 

She could get used to days like this. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
